


Camp Creepsville

by seamonster



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Horror, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, NB reader - Freeform, Obsessive Behavior, Other, Slasher: 76, Stalking, banana hunt, everyone dies, not a single trace of fluff to be found, only implied, please read at your own risk, rape not explicitly on screen, this is awful please be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamonster/pseuds/seamonster
Summary: On a fun and foggy night,laughter light and hearts entwined,there's a stranger in the dark.The Slasher has you on his mind.





	Camp Creepsville

**Author's Note:**

> i was originally going to write a Halloween collection, much like I did for Christmas last year. but then this a-hole of a chapter ended up about as long as the entire collection was intended to be and I just ain't got time for more!  
BUT  
I'm really pleased with how this came out. it's horrible and I hope at least some of you like it. I don't write horror very often, but I always give it my all when I do, and I really feel satisfied with this piece. to everyone who follows me for that sweet, sweet loving fluff: I'm sorry. bc this isn't that, not by a long shot.
> 
> Please read at your own risk, and mind the tags.
> 
> kisses, seamo

Gabriel Reyes was a man of many crazy ideas. Some brilliant, some were kinda… out there. This one was, by far, your favorite. Six years as a camp counselor was the longest you'd ever held down a single job. It was due almost entirely to Mr. Reyes. His summer camp for kids was well-loved locally. You'd have thought that summer camps would have gone out of business ages ago. But somehow, through some form of strange magic and excellent business sense, Camp Cráneo Lago had managed to remain somewhere kids actually  _ wanted _ to go each summer. 

Far from being an aloof owner, Mr. Reyes managed the camp himself. He oversaw everything and always kept spirits up. Which is why you kept coming back. It was a good job.

And then he got an idea.

What if, after summer season had ended, he opened the camp again for just one week. The week leading up to Halloween. A fright-filled experience full of themed parties, spooky activities, costumes, contests, and more! For adults, of course. It took nearly two years of planning, but here you were. One week until Halloween, dressed like a scarecrow and overseeing a scavenger hunt for boozed up college kids and parents who don't get out nearly enough. Most in costume, some just splattered in fake blood, all of them a touch unsteady as they giggled and searched for the next clue.

The night was unusually misty and mysterious. You had a very strong suspicion that if you looked, you'd find hidden fog machines around. But it really did add to the creepy atmosphere. It almost felt like you were being watched.

"Reach for the sky."

Something hard like plastic poked you in the back, a slight slur to the words that informed you immediately that McCree had already started dipping into the whiskey while still on the clock.

You didn't even turn around.

"Is it really considered a costume for you to dress up like a cowboy when you already are one? 'Cause it seems like a cop-out to me."

Jesse looked playfully insulted, twirling his toy gun as he rounded you.

"You hurt me, darlin'. And to think I held up three actual scarecrows tryin' to find you."

You laughed despite yourself, which pleased the sloshed man to no end. His grin was wide and goofy. 

While it was true that Jesse still typically held to the aesthetics of the south-western life he came from, his costume absolutely took it ten steps further. His chaps were real leather. His serape was authentic and hand made. There were tortoise shell buttons on his flannel shirt. Even the hat atop his head wasn't his everyday one. Only the gun was fake. He let you take him in, head to toe, only peacocking a little. You almost hated how damn good he looked.

It'd be a lie to say you weren't a… fan of Jesse. He was tall, frustratingly handsome, and could charm the teeth off a snake with that slick tongue. You very much enjoyed looking at him. That ass covered in tight denim jeans should be outright illegal. And that voice? Smoother than Tennessee honey whiskey. 

The problem with McCree being so damn attractive was that he was very aware of the effect he had on people. And for six years you'd watched him systematically work his way through every willing and legal member of the staff in one way or the other. His interest in people was entirely shallow and you'd never been interested in carving your own notch in his bedpost.

But that never stopped him from trying to convince you.

You could tell by the way he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops that he wanted you to comment on the garish belt buckle he'd selected for his get-up, but you kept your gaze resolutely above the waist.

"Is that what they call a ten gallon hat, Jess?"

"This ole thang?" He took it off with a flourish, brushing unseen dust from the brim. "This is a gen-you-wine Stetson, darlin'. And a damn relic."

"I would say the same about your usual hat."

That earned you a deep chuckle that would make anyone a little weak in the knees. (And, perhaps, just a touch damp in the basement). He turned the hat around and placed it gently on your head, adjusting the brim slightly. The fact that he took a step closer into your personal space to do so didn't escape your notice.

"There we go." You looked up at him from under the Stetson; noticing in the dim, ambient lighting just how blown wide his pupils were. "Pretty as a peach."

There was a very warm hand slowly introducing itself to your hip, finger by finger. And Jesse took another half step closer, hips swaying subtly closer to yours as he started to lean down. A curve of victory at the edges of his smug smile.

You tipped your face down quick enough that his own landed right on the hat, giving you that moment to step back to a respectable distance whilst plucking it off your head.

"It's not really my style, but thanks."

He tried to recover smoothly, accepting the hat back from you, smirk still present.

"One of these days, yer gonna warm up to me. I can feel it in my bones."

"Yeah, well, cut it out."

He laughed again, a twinkle in his eyes as he replaced his hat. With a polite tip of the brim, he finally meandered away, allowing you to breathe freely again. How on earth could someone be so charming and horny all the time?

Despite being left alone at your post guarding one of the scavenger hunt clues, you didn't feel very alone. The fog around you had grown thick and a little ominous. It pulled goosebumps up on your skin. Which was ridiculous. You'd helped set this part of the camp up, you knew there was nothing truly ominous here. Just haystacks and a few plastic decorations between the trees. And you.

But no, there was something else, there  _ had _ to be. Jesse's footsteps had faded away, yet you could swear you saw movement in the dark. A camper, maybe?

"Jess, that still you?" No answer outside the chirping of dying cicadas and the distant sounds of the camp stereo system. But your hair was standing on end, neck  _ burning _ in suspicion. "...Lena?"

"Not even close."

You half-shrieked in surprise, the sound blending in perfectly with the artificially spooky atmosphere. Distantly, you heard a few campers scream and laugh in response. Reyes just laughed, emerging from the mist in his  _ Dracula _ costume, sans mask. His dark hair curled with sweat over his forehead, fanged smile making him look younger than you knew his years to be. 

"Expecting someone else?"

You returned his smile with relief, mindlessly readjusting the front of your overalls while your heart rate quieted. "Campers, eventually."

That had him laughing again, joining you at your post and leaning against the rickety fence.

"Most of them are still in the field. Looking for a clue that is, quite literally, right in front of them."

"That clock you made like a medicine wheel?"

"Good to know someone figured it out."

You shared a smile and moved to lean against the fence next to him, letting him bump against your shoulder lightly.

After a beat or two of comfortable silence, Gabriel glanced down at you a couple of times, clearing his throat.

"I heard Jesse over here with you… Is he bothering you again?" His voice was softer, colored with a concern that reminded you consistently why you loved him as a boss. Your smile stayed, tilting your head until it rested on his shoulder.

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Oh, I believe that," he chuckled. "But you know what to do if he ever tries to handle you, right?"

You nodded solemnly. "Suplex him."

"And then tell me so I can take it out of his ass. Maybe even his paycheck." There was a smile in his voice, but you knew very well that he meant it. So you nodded your understanding, then relaxed more against his side.

"Tired already?"

"Tired of waiting for drunk campers to show." 

You shifted your gaze as you said it, looking out through the fog towards the cabins. A light breeze parted the mist for a moment and you were startled to see someone standing just at the edge of the cabin floodlights. Facing you. No more than forty or so feet away. Gabriel shifted under your cheek, like he saw them, too.

Their costume looked just as extravagant as Gabe's own. Detailed down to the sweat stained wife beater and blood-speckled leather jacket. There was darkness behind the eye sockets of the mask.

"Lose your group?" Gabriel called out. The person, a man you guessed, stood tense and unmoving. You leaned off of the fence when Gabe did, letting him stand the barest half-step in front of you.

"Most everyone is in the west field, I can show you the way if you'd like?"

Still, the man didn't say anything, and the breeze shifted again to let the fog roll back into the distance between you. Now that you knew he was there, you could faintly make out his shape.

"What is he doing?" You whispered, subconsciously gripping the back of Gabe's jacket. Like he could sense your unease, Gabriel gently urged you another step behind himself, keeping his hand on your arm.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

Just as he said those words, an orange light suddenly cut through the mist, making you jump. Between plumes of fog, you could see the orange glow coming from behind the mask, lighting up the eye sockets and front ventilation. It was an excessive level of special effects for a Halloween costume you thought only Reyes was capable of.

Before either of you could react, the distinct sound of a gaggle of intoxicated campers came stumbling through the woods and you quickly tugged your mask on. Too busy scrambling onto your pole, you didn't see how the strange man's attention followed you. Reyes did. He watched the masked weirdo watch you, his own expression growing none too gentle.

Within minutes, a pair of parents crashed through the bushes, excitedly hustling over to you in the dim lighting. As still as he was standing, they didn't even notice Gabriel in the dark.

"Ooooo, spooky," one of them giggled, while another reached for the folded paper taped to your overalls. Just as they were pulling it away, you jerked to life on your pole with a ghoulish groan you'd practiced for days. They screamed, they laughed, they ran off with the clue to find better lighting for reading it. Job well done.

When you were sure they'd gone, you relaxed. 

"Took them long enough."

You yanked the mask back off with a relieving breath. It was basically a warm, rubber sleeve for your face. Not great.

"You think the others will follow soon?"

Busying yourself with taping another folded up clue to your chest, you didn't notice right away that Reyes was gone. The quiet seemed to settle in on you quickly, though, like a wave.

"Gabe?"

A glance around told you that we're alone again. Even through the fog you couldn't make any human figures out.

"...Gabe?"

"Lost him."

Jolting so hard that you nearly fell off your pole, you watched Gabriel part the fog to join you again. It took your mind a scant moment to catch up as you carefully jumped down.

"The guy in the motor jacket?"

"Yeah…" Gabe still looked around the area, obviously tense.

You were afraid to ask but, "everything okay?"

He didn't answer right away, leaving a heavy pause between you. Then he turned back to you with a reassuring smile.

"Of course. I gotta finish making my rounds, and find Lena to do a headcount." He mumbled the last bit, but smiled still as he lightly yanked the back of your overalls, pulling a soft "oof" out of you. "Think you'll be alright by yourself for a few?"

You gave him a shrug in response. You'd been alone nearly the whole time anyway. Although…

You really didn't know how long that guy had been standing there in the dark…

"Hey." A warm hand on the back of your head brought you off the threshold of what could possibly be a panic house. Gabriel's entire demeanor lost its tense edge and he helped hoist you back onto your pole. "Just stay right here and pretend you're a scarecrow. I won't be gone long, and more campers should be coming."

Before you could pull your mask back on, Gabe handed you a walkie from his pocket.

"It's set to channel three, I've got a spare. So does Lena, Jesse, and Augustin. If you see that guy again, or if anything happens, let me know."

"And if you don't answer?"

Something strange passed very quickly over Gabriel's face, but it was gone in an instant.

"I'm sure Jesse or someone will."

With the walkie in your pocket, Reyes did another quick sweep of your area before promising again that he'd be back soon. And then you were alone, with the ghost of Gabriel's cologne and an odd feeling in your tummy.

That was strange… right? 

You weren't given time to dwell on it as you had to quickly cram the walkie in your pocket and pull your mask back on.

Three more groups of campers came by for a clue. The last one being some college frat guys dressed up like bananas. They lingered to take selfies with you and read the clue before they ran off, drunkenly sharing their one brain cell completely dedicated to the game. The chanting of "banana hunt" fading in the distance. It was heartwarmingly pure.

For a moment, you almost forgot about the strange man in the dark.

The crunching of twigs and leaves called for your stillness once more. Expecting to hear drunken laughter or talking, the otherwise silence slowly became unnerving. Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, came to a stop in front of your pole. 

Aside from being uncomfortably hot, the mask that went with your costume was ill-fitting. The eye holes didn't match up with your eyes, leaving you only guessing as to who was standing in front of you. All you could hear was muffled breathing.

It took more than a moment for you to notice the orange glow through the rubber, but when it did? Your entire spine locked up, heart leaping into your throat.

Neither of you budged, your heart rate racing in pure uncertainty. Was he trying to scare you? What was the point? The walkie felt heavy in your pocket but you were afraid to make a grab for it. Too afraid to even move. You'd give anything for Gabe to pull off one of his appearing acts right now. He screened these campers, right?

Something tugged gently at the front of your costume, painfully slow. Breath froze in your lungs, blood thumping heavy in your ears.

Then the clue tugged free, masking tape weak against the denim. You exhaled very slowly. It took another silent pause for you to remember that you were supposed to try and frighten him. Before you had a chance to try, you felt another tug on the front of your overalls, much the same way Gabe had done to the back of them. Jolting you forward slightly, but not enough to pull you from the pole.

You couldn't stop the soft whimper from escaping you.

And it was answered by a rumbling hum from a voice like sand on concrete. The sound nearly awakened something in you; a deeply buried, primal fear of the unknown slamming against your instinct to run.

Then, with heavy footfalls, he walked away.

You only waited a moment before ripping the mask off your face and stumbling down from your pole. The static of the walkie made you jump. Why were you so freaked out? It was just  _ one _ creepy dude at a camp literally designed to be creepy. He was just getting into the spirit of the season! ...Right?

"Gabe?"

You crouched down behind the crappy wooden fence, holding the walkie close to your chest. After a moment of more static, Gabriel's voice filtered through.

_ "Everything alright?" _

You hesitated just a moment, looking around one more time.

"Uhh, yeah, that guy… came back."

_ "Did he say anything to you? Do anything?" _

"Not really? But he's definitely creeping me out and he kinda…" You weren't sure how to word it. "He tugged? On my overalls? After he took a clue. It seemed really strange. I don't know…"

Gabriel didn't even hesitate.

_ "Leave, go to the office. Wait for me there. Lena." _

_ "Aye?" _

_ "Where are we on that headcount?" _

Your coworker's bubbly voice confirmed fourteen campers in her and Emily's areas. McCree chimed in to add that the remaining six were in his area.

_ "Any of them dressed like a Jason knock-off?" _

" _ Uhhh nope! None here." _

_ "Nah, just a buncha bananas takin' selfies with Mr. and Mrs. Addams." _

As they talked, you grabbed the rest of your clues out and quickly stuck them to your pole. Somewhat paranoid, you kept to lighted areas as you made your way across the campus. An uneasy feeling of being watched followed you regardless, hurrying your steps.

Gabriel had everyone with a walkie chime in, giving them a description of their "extra guest". Augustin promised to keep an eye out for stabbing victims, humor in his voice.

The office was on the far side of the mess hall, just a small cabin house that counselors slept in sometimes if they stayed over the weekends between each crowd of kids. It was otherwise empty when you got there, though you found the living room decorated for a small staff party to come.

You skipped by it, heading for Gabriel's actual office, knowing he kept extra clothes in there. You shed everything that involved prickly straw and rubber, replacing it with a warm hoodie you found in the closet. You really doubted he'd mind and the soft material felt a bit like a security blanket wrapping you up. It helped shake off the unease clinging to your skin.

Hesitantly, you wondered if you should check in again, no one else had chimed in recently. But the sound of Gabe's boots on the porch stopped you. His hairline was even more sweaty than before, breathing slightly labored like he'd been running. He was peeling off his heavy coat as he walked through the door, spotting you right away.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," you nodded, letting him check you over quickly. Satisfied you were unhurt, you followed as he dumped pieces of his costume on the desk.

"You said he touched you?"

"I mean, kinda?"

"Show me."

You gave a slight shrug when he stood in front of you, arms open in the invitation to demonstrate. So you tugged on the front of his shirt, slightly damp with sweat, and watched him hum slightly as he swayed forward.

"Gabe, what's going on?"

He held up a finger, moving around his desk to dig the landline phone out from under his Dracula coat. Mobile reception was spotty at best on the campgrounds.

"Someone snuck into the camp for what I assume to be a little extra fun. I spotted him again, chased him into the woods before I lost him."

"So he's just trying to terrorize us?"

"I hope a night in jail is worth it. That's trespassing  _ and _ employee assault."

You wanted to snort at 'assault'. You hardly felt assaulted, just freaked out. But the look on Gabe's face stopped you. His triumphant slight smile had faded, listening to the phone in his hand.

"What?"

Dark eyes met yours for a moment and you were almost  _ certain _ there was something like fear there.

He put the phone down in its cradle.

"Nothing, are you tired?"

"...Huh?" 

He dug through a drawer in his desk, finding his mobile phone and a set of keys.

"It's been a long day, you should hit the hay. Pun intended."

The abrupt change in behavior was weird, even for him.

"It's barely nine."

"Early bed, early start."

"Did you read that on a coffee canister? What's wrong with you right now?"

When he tried to shuffle you out of the office, you ducked under his arm, snatching the phone up before he had a chance to stop you.

It was silent.

Dead silent. No dial tone, nothing. You pressed a few numbers, still nothing. You pressed 911, _nada_.

"Gabe-"

"I'll sort it out."

"Sort it out?" Your voice hit a slightly higher octave than usual. Gabe took the phone gently from your now trembling fingers, one arm wrapping around your back to pull you against his side. You immediately pressed your face against his shoulder and he said your name softly.

"I need you to do me a few favors, okay? Easy stuff." He waited for you to nod before continuing. "I'm gonna go through the house and make sure everything is locked. Just as a precaution." He rubbed your back as you started to shake. "I need you to go upstairs to the north room. Lock yourself in. It's probably nothing, I just want… you to be safe."

"What about the others?" You asked, pulling your head up to speak.

Gabriel promised he'd take care of everyone else, too. That everyone was going to be fine. It was just one man playing a horrible prank. Definitely not more than he could handle. It felt like he was choosing his words very carefully, like there was something else he wasn't saying. But if he said he'd take care of it, you trusted him. 

"I'm just gonna head to the main road for a minute and give Jackie a quick call, alright?" He was ushering you upstairs, making sure you were doing as he asked and checking the locked windows along the way. "I'll let you guys know when I get back. You still have that walkie?"

You nodded, zipping the borrowed hoodie up tighter. Gabe checked the windows of the north room, staring out across the tree line intently for a few moments. You just stood in the middle of the room and waited as he ultimately pulled the curtains closed.

"You good?" The question was soft, careful. You met his eyes, probably looking as freaked as you felt because he gently knocked into you for an encompassing hug.

"This is like the set-up of one of your horrible scary movies. Gabriel, what is going on?"

"A douche is angling to get his teeth knocked out for trying to scare the hell out of me and my staff. That's all."

You nodded, trying to breathe deep and stave off the uncertain panic festering in your bones.

Despite looking like he wanted to say more, Gabe let you go after a short moment of quiet, giving your arms a brief rub. 

"Lock the door after me and keep the walkie on."

You did as he said, of course you did. And you tried so hard to reason with yourself into calming down. It was just a prank. He'd not actually done anything to try and hurt you. It was just one man being a dick.

Maybe it was because Cráneo Lago was like a home to you. A safe place. You didn't like the thought that a stranger was trying to compromise that feeling of safety for shits and giggles. In fact, the more you thought of it in that light, the more indignant you felt. And less afraid. Taking a deep breath, you laid down on the bed, propped up against the pillows. Gabriel was right. It was just a guy. Gabe was going to call his cop buddy, and the discount Jason was going to spend the rest of his night in a holding cell.

In the warmth of your borrowed hoodie, you managed to nod off.

\-----

A crackle of static woke you with start, and you immediately felt weird, even as you blinked your eyes open to the darkness of the room. Much darker than it had been before, no light at all on the other side of the curtains. How long had you been asleep?

You struggled to pull the humming walkie from your pocket, the constant white noise making you frown. The small screen showed that it was still set to channel three. As you sat up and stretched your spine, you held down the button to talk, voice thick with sleep.

“Gabe?”

...No response, just continued static at a low volume.

“Jesse, Lena?” Nothing.

Maybe everyone had gone to bed and turned their walkies off. If that was true, you’d much rather sleep in your own bed back down in the group cabins. Gabriel had arranged a pumpkin gauntlet you needed to help set up in the morning. You decided to look out the window first.

Floodlights had been switched off, leaving most of the campground in darkness. The only illumination was the nearly full moon above and a few cabin door lights. Which… weren’t typically kept on at night. People were probably too drunk to remember to turn them off. You had to keep reminding yourself that these weren’t children this time.

Something else caught your eye, too, though you couldn’t quite make out what it was very clearly. Gabriel had clearly also forgotten to turn off the fog machines, but the north room windows allowed you to see clear across the west field. It was drenched in thick mist, but you could distantly make out shapes dotting the field through the fog. It was hard to tell exactly what it was but it almost looked as though someone had relocated all of your scarecrows into the field. 

That was odd.

You let yourself out of the locked room, leaving the door open as you headed downstairs, head still swimming with sleep and confusion. With the hoodie still on, it didn’t really register how chilly the cabin was. You used the screen of the walkie to light your way downstairs to the front door.

Which stood ajar.

Not just ajar, it was wide open. The remnants of a broken hall table littering the floor of the entryway. What in the fresh holy hell? Gabe was going to be so pissed when he saw that.

Like the flipping of a switch, panic and fear distilled in you immediately, bafflement keeping it at a low simmer for the moment. But you were still cautious as you stepped out into the night.

What the actual fuck.

The campus was trashed. Like everyone had decided to throw the craziest party they could manage, only there wasn’t any red solo cups or empty beer bottles laying around. Decorations were broken, pumpkins smashed, fake blood splattered against the sides of buildings where doors stood open, even a few windows were cracked or shattered. It was a disaster. And you stood in front of the mess hall, mouth hanging open in complete shock for at least a few minutes. What happened? How had you slept through this?? This…

Where was everyone?

Quickly, you ran to the nearest camper cabin who’s door stood open. Personal belongings were still there, but strewn about like someone had been in a hurry. But no one was around. So you started to call out.

“Hello?” Only the hooting of an owl answered you. Cabin to cabin you ran, but there was no one there.

It didn’t take long for you to notice drag marks on the ground, with dark, wet stains. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with how quickly it was racing. Threatening to make you feel faint. And then your mind went back to the field and you halted. All of the drag marks led in that direction.

This… couldn’t be real. You were dreaming. This is what happened when some dick decides to scare the crap out of everybody. Nightmares.

Yet the cold air stung your face, chilled the tears on your face when you hadn’t even realized with were crying. Your entire body felt numb as it moved on autopilot through the trees. Your feet stopped at the edge of the field, eyes wide and burning as you hardly blinked.

The shapes were definitely the scarecrows. Every pole had been moved and dug down into the earth, erecting their silent guardians in the mist. A soft sob escaped you, because you knew. Mind racing and refusing to form the thought coherently, you still knew. Deep in your gut and marrow.

You knew.

One shaky step, then another. You were the only sound in the fog, breathing erratically, accompanied by an ever-present static from the walkie clutched in your hand like a vice. You passed them but you couldn’t look up. Couldn’t stop crying or walking. Like you were possessed.

When the walkie crackled again, you finally flinched with a sharp gasp. A voice came over the line. Rough and garbled and only speaking one word.

_ “R un.” _

You dropped the walkie like it burned, watching it bounce twice over the grass and knock against a pile on the ground, gathered at the base of one of the poles. The moon was bright enough to illuminate the bones, cracked and still covered in blood and viscera. Your lungs seized up, spine locking rod straight as your gaze finally dared to travel up to the body on the pole. To the blank and hollow eyes of Jesse, his limp body lashed tightly to the wood to keep his meat from sagging over. Only his skull left inside to keep his face recognizable.

And you shrieked. So long and loud that your throat burned, the sound echoing over the trees. Through it, you could barely make out the voice on your walkie again, strained and desperate, and calling your name, begging you to run and that

_ That was Gabe’s voice. _

A high-pitched tinny picked up in your ears, mind slow to catch up to the fact that you were already running. Sprinting out of the field faster than you’ve ever moved in your life. You faltered and nearly tripped when a new sound roared to life somewhere on the campgrounds. A sound out of a fucking horror movie. The loud revving of a gas chainsaw popping and growling like an angry beast. You screamed again, though it was nowhere near you. And Gabe-

Oh no, Gabe!

Like a goddamned machine, your brain immediately shut down the overwhelming panic blinding you. Instead lighting up your nerves and senses with calcified fear and a deep instinct of survival. But not just for yourself. You heard Gabriel’s voice, he was still alive. And if he was still alive, you could find him. You could walk the campgrounds blindfolded, you could find him quicker than a psychopath with a chainsaw. You had to.

You had to.

Skidding into a turn, you made a quick path through the cabins towards the kiln house. But he wasn’t there. Or at the softball field. Your muscles burned, begging for rest, but pure adrenaline was flowing through your veins. And as you headed towards the barn, the sound of a chainsaw finally caught up with you.

Smashing through the barn door was the man in the mask. You almost fell over completely trying to stop, your knees dragging on the gravel hard enough to burn right through the denim of your overalls and your skin. But you never felt the pain. Because the man spotted you, and paused, orange light still glowing behind the mask. A scream was caught in your throat, limbs uncoordinated for a moment as possessing fear threatened to take over again.

He lowered the chainsaw, still gurgling thick smoke as it rumbled. And that voice from before left his mask in the form of your name. He said your name, calmly, like he knew you. And then the chainsaw cut off.

“No,” you barely whimpered, scrambling from your knees to your feet again. No no no, this wasn’t happening. You started to run again. The chainsaw hit the ground with a heavy thump, boots crunching on the gravel, sprinting after you as he gave chase. Calling your name again. Something about his voice twinged against your memory on the side of familiarity, but you shoved it away.

He was very fast.

You screamed again when his fingers grazed the hood of your sweater enough to make a grab at it, but you’d reached the mess hall again and turned sharply, throwing yourself through one of the shattered windows and sliding on broken glass as you kept going, barely slowing down. You zipped right through the left swinging doors of the kitchen, hearing him curse and break more glass to follow you.

Then you ducked down and quickly, but quietly shuffled underneath the swinging doors on the right side of the kitchen, turning near full circle and slipping out the already open mess hall doors. You ran again, but didn’t hear him immediately behind you.

The cabin house came back into view, a dark silhouette against a starry sky. Without thinking, you ran around the back of it. The outside facing basement door was unlocked and you yanked one side open, looking around wildly and you lowered into it, pulling the steel door shut above you and jamming the lock into place.

Only then did you stop, nearly falling down the short set of stairs as your exhausted legs threatened to collapse underneath you; breath coming in sharp, haggard gulps. 

Somewhere in the dark basement, you heard someone whisper your name in pained disbelief. And you snapped around, instantly alert again when a flashlight clicked on but

It was Gabriel.

Battered and bloody in a heap on the floor, a walkie clutched in hand.

_ “Gabe.” _ You choked on his name, vision blurring under a wave of hot tears as you stumbled down the stairs and collapsed next to him. Despite how hurt he obviously was, he grabbed you in a hug so hard it popped your back. His breath ragged in pain and relief. You could only sob for a moment. But it was a moment the two of you really didn’t have.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. A little scraped up and exhausted, but that was it. When you finally looked at him though, you realized why he was on the ground. There was a deep, bloody gash in his thigh, leaking crimson onto the floor. He’d wrapped it in strips of cloth, but they were soaked completely through. The ankle on his other leg was mangled, twisting unnaturally.

Warm hands gently cupped your face, forcing you to tear your eyes away. Thumbs wiping at your tears. You didn’t even see how he was crying himself.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded, covering his hands with yours and squeezing.

“Gabe-”

“I’m so sorry. This wasn’t-” He choked on his own words, having to take a deep breath against the pain in his body. “You have to run. Now. There’s, yes, there’s gas in the four-wheeler-- _ please _ -”

You kept shaking your head.

“I can’t leave you, Gabe-”

_ “Yes you can _ , you  _ have _ to.”

“I can carry you, we can go together, I’m not leaving you for him.” You knew you were growing hysterical. But the thought of abandoning Gabriel here to a killer’s whims, your heart lurched painfully. “I  _ can’t _ .”

You’d always… hoped that someday, in a happy and peaceful future now ripped from you, Gabriel would finally kiss you as sweet and passionately as he did right then. Maybe under the stars, or in the light of the setting sun. And you would kiss him back, letting free the love for him that had been building up for so long. You would feel each other’s smile, knowing each other’s warmth. A pair of hearts beating together at last. Cráneo Lago was your home. Gabriel was your home. He always would be.

But that wasn’t now, and that wasn’t this kiss. Tears instead of smiles, whimpers of misery instead of whispers of adoration. You both knew that this was it, the only one you’d get. The lips of the man you loved tasted so bittersweet; and your heart was already mourning all the what-if’s of how it could have been.

The words were on the tip of your tongue when you both managed to pull away, but he stopped them from spilling with a thumb against your trembling lips. His forehead pressing to yours. Gabriel’s breathing had grown very labored.

“The four-wheeler… is at the gate. Keys in the ignition. You have to go now.” His voice was growing faint as he begged. “Please, baby, please live.”

But you couldn’t get your body to move away from him. Couldn’t let him go…

Even as he grew heavy in your arms, blood loss taking its toll. You could only cry and hold him harder.

You didn’t hear the footsteps until the basement door was creaking open, orange light flooding into the room. But you were less afraid this time. This man had already taken everything from you. Why not your life, too?

He came to a stop right behind you, lighting up the pathetic, shivering form of you and Gabriel together. Of you holding his limp body, sobbing into his curls. The man lightly kicked at Gabriel’s leg, only able to pull the weakest of groans from the dying man. Then he scoffed, a smug sound as he grabbed you by both arms and dragged you away, kicking and screaming.

You were expecting him to beat you, snap your neck, not haul you upstairs, right back into the north room. Where he threw you down onto the bed and stood over you, breathing heavy. So terrified, could only cower and watch him in fear, waiting for the proverbial ax to drop. Morning was creeping over the horizon, bleeding light into the room. The man was covered in blood and dirt and sweat. Slowly, he started to laugh. Light chuckles you’d expect in vastly different circumstances and a stone dropped into your stomach. Because you  _ did _ know that voice.

“Perfect,” was the first thing he said. “This went so perfect.”

Bile churned in your stomach, your mind blanking in shock as you watched him run a hand through his filthy hair, now looking faintly golden in the strengthening light. The name was so weak on your tongue, this couldn’t be…

“...Jack?”

He straightened up, chest puffing up almost in pride.

“Told her, I  _ told _ her. Amari looked at me like I was fucking crazy when I told her, said you were too into Gabriel for me to catch your eye, but look at you. Recognizing me when you can’t even see my face.”

The light of his mask flickered off as he yanked it over his head and let it drop to the floor. And it was, indeed, the face and voice of Jack Morrison. A man Gabriel had considered one of his closest friends, who served alongside him in the Marines. Who continued to serve the community as one of the most decorated cops in your city. A man you’d met on occasion, whenever Gabriel threw his between-season parties, spoken with sparsely, never really thinking much of him.

But he was different now. His blue eyes were bright and wild, belaying how unhinged his mind had become. The grin on his face made your skin crawl; all teeth, like a predator waiting to strike. This man had just massacred nearly thirty people in one night, and now he was looking at you like some sort of sick prize.

“What…” was all you could get out. It was enough for Jack.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make the first move for so long.” Jack started pulling off blood soaked gloves. “Naive of me, I should have known better. You’re so shy.” He chuckled that last bit, yanking off his jacket next. That’s when dread gave way to panic and you startled scrambling back on the bed. He was still faster than you though, pinning you down with the bulk of his weight, laughing still. “And feisty! You really gave me the slip back there, I was impressed.”

A hot mouth descended on your neck while he manhandled your exhausted body into a different position. One that had tears drowning your vision again as his hands excitedly touched everything he could reach. You mindlessly begged him to stop. Stop please, _ get off! _

His next chuckle was dark, breath hot on your ear as he promised you, “Oh sweetheart, I’m gonna get off. Trust me.”

**Author's Note:**

> -rolls up sleeves- and now to get back to entanglement theory.


End file.
